The Rainbow Connection
by amor-remanet
Summary: Regulus is gay, or, at least claims to be. After Sirius and Remus say he's not, he attempts to prove them wrong. SLASH WARNING. RegulusxLockhart and SiriusxRemus. Feedback welcome. Update: Chapter Four up!
1. Chapter 1: I'm Gay, Really!

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all related entities are not mine; I just play with them, then quietly put them back.

"I'm gay, Sirius! Don't you get it!"

This was definitely not the way Sirius Black wanted to start his Monday morning. It was bad enough that Remus, Prefect's badge aside, had let him drink Firewhiskey last night before they'd shagged, and now his thirteen-year-old, ignorant, pretty boy brother, Regulus, had come over to the Gryffindor table to vehemently insist that he was, in fact, gay.

This had been his Thing recently. Two weeks ago it had been that he wanted to grow up and be a dragon keeper. Before that it had been that he was going to learn how to be an Animagus – and at thirteen. Clearly, he was just trying to irritate their mother, but she was too busy finding something wrong with everything Sirius did to do much more than pat Regulus on the head.

So this week, with the knowledge of how mother had nearly exploded when, on a semi-routine search of Sirius' room, she found all his letters from Remus that made it quite explicit what Sirius thought of the werewolf's arse and what he wanted to do to it, Regulus was pretending to be gay. It was almost cute, in a pathetic sort of way. But then Sirius had to think about his own predilections – and his undeniable chemistry with and attraction to a certain werewolf – and remembered that he should have probably been offended. That was, if his head wouldn't throb so much.

It was bad enough that he couldn't even explain his own Master Plan to Get Snivellus – James had to do it for him, even if only Peter was listening – but now Regulus needed to be smacked, or at the very least, yelled at. No, no…he had too much of a headache for that; it wasn't worth the effort to yell at him too much.

"Regulus…_leave_," Sirius groaned.

"But…_why_?" Regulus protested.

"Regulus!" Remus interjected sharply, flashing his Prefect's badge. "Your brother is tired and has a headache. Leave him alone, won't you?"

"Stow it, Lupin." Regulus huffed.

"He's right you know, Reg," James chuckled, looking up from his parchment. "What with loony Lupin being the ponce that he is, and your dear brother being the poncy boy lover _he_ is-"

"But I'm gay! Really!"

"Yeah, _right_," Peter sniggered into his pumpkin juice.

"Why doesn't anyone understand me!"

"Because you're thirteen and none of us speak Stupid," Sirius growled.

"But I'm _gay_! REALLY! I am!"

"Being a fancy lad prat doesn't make you _gay_!"

"But, _Sirius..._I _am_!"

"Regulus," Remus sighed, quickly losing his patience. "Go back to your own table or I'll have to report you for harassing us."

"Honestly," James added. "Go bother Snivellus or something."

"Can't you all see that I'm _gay_! Don't you _care_?"

"You're not and no," Sirius snarled.

"You're my brother! You should be the most understanding!"

"If you're so gay, _prove_ it."

"Okay, I _will_!"

Even in his state of reduced ability to function, Sirius could see that he had just won the argument. Regulus was in a corner, and he didn't try to hide it. His eyes grew wide and every inch of his inherited good looks reeked of fear. There was honestly no way he was going to get out of this and win…if he was at home, he could just bother Mother until she dismissively agreed, but this time, he would have to lose. Naturally, he would complain about it but today Sirius won.

Just as Sirius was ready to celebrate his premature victory, Fortune smiled upon Regulus. It had finely groomed blonde hair, a lilac scarf around its neck (and clashing terribly with its green and silver tie), and the kind of face that just begged to be punched. Oddly enough, Fortune had chosen to manifest itself as Slytherin third-year Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Good morning, Gryffindors," he chirped, waving respectfully; that nicety out of the way, he turned to his prior business. "Regulus, Mister Malfoy wishes to speak with you, regarding something you've done to the Common Room's décor."

"Oi, Lockhart," Regulus hissed, his eyes gleaming. "Come here."

Sirius groaned. He was familiar with the gleam in Regulus' eyes, having expressed that familial trait so many times himself. He also knew that there was no way that this could possibly end well. Completely oblivious to the conniving glint in Regulus' eyes, Lockhart complied and walked over to him. He motioned for the blond boy to move closer; once again, Lockhart obeyed. Once he was close enough, Regulus grabbed him and kissed him hard on the mouth.

A collective gasp of shock and awe rippled throughout the Great Hall. Lily and several of her friends dropped their forks, which fell, clattering, to the floor. Lucius Malfoy's eyebrows threatened to break off of his face and Severus Snape had to practically choke himself to keep from vomiting. Peter spilled his pumpkin juice, forever ruining the latest Master Plan to Get Snivellus. James didn't even react to this or try to clean up the mess; he was frozen solid in surprise. At the staff table, Professor Horace Slughorn fainted, most likely at the thought that neither of the Black brothers would reproduce.

In fact, the only people who seemed nonplussed by this breakfast snog spectacle were: Sirius and Remus, who were all too used to this sort of behavior; and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who sipped his tea and pretended to not notice.

To add credibility to this farce, Regulus wrapped one of his hands in Lockhart's hair and grabbed his arse with the other. A gaggle of third-year girls from all the tables – even Gryffindor, though Sirius was loath to admit it – applauded, whistled, and cat-called as Regulus turned and lowered Lockhart as though they were in a tango. Taking one of the blond boy's hands, Regulus broke the kiss off; he gave Lockhart a penetrating stare before drawing both himself and his snog-bunny back into standing positions. Without a second thought, he left a clearly woozy Lockhart on his own two feet.

Defiantly, Regulus turned to face his brother.

"There, Sirius!" He yelled petulantly. "I'm GAY! Do you believe me yet!"

As soon as Regulus had said this, Lockhart let out a whimper and fainted onto the floor of the Great Hall.

There was once again applause, this time almost exclusively from the other Slytherin boys.

"Regulus, take Lockhart up to the Hospital Wing, won't you?" Remus sighed, massaging his temples.

"Why me?" Regulus protested.

"You _snogged _him, so he's _your_ responsibility, you git!" Sirius barked. "Now listen to the nice Prefect and get that prat up to the Hospital Wing!"

Regulus pouted, but complied for fear of being reported to a teacher for the second time in three days. Grumbling incoherently, he threw one of Lockhart's arms over his shoulders and began dragging the unconscious boy to the Hospital Wing. As soon as Regulus was gone and the tumult had calmed down, James turned to the other Marauders.

"So, gents, what's the verdict?" He asked as Peter cleaned up the pumpkin juice mess.

"He's not gay," Remus and Sirius replied matter-of-factly.

"Looked pretty gay to me," Peter huffed.

"As great as your opinion is to _you_, Wormtail," Sirius huffed. "Moony and I are the experts here, not you."

"Just because I'm not gay doesn't mean I can't see it!"

"Except that you didn't even pick up on me and Remus until James broke down and _told_ you."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"In all fairness, Wormtail," Remus chuckled. "You don't have the best social aptitude."

"And now we're going to drop it," James sniggered. "Will Messers Moony and Padfoot please explain their verdict so we can finish here and get to class?"

"Gladly, Mister Prongs. See, if you watched Regulus closely, you'd be able to tell in two seconds that he's used to dealing with girls."

"Why's that then?"

"He grabbed Lockhart's arse too high up," Sirius explained blandly; the headache was getting to him again, and he had to lay his head down. "And did you see how he pulled Lockhart in? It was way too loose. Obviously, he's looking for female curves."

"Which kind of makes you wonder where he got the experience…"

"That's enough, thank you, Mister Moony," James barked, flushing scarlet.

"Oi, Prongs," Peter said, seemingly more confused than usual. "What's _your_ problem?"

"He's Sirius' younger brother, Wormtail!"

"_So_?"

"So I don't want to talk about him snogging little girls!"

"They're _thirteen_."

"That's still too young to be snogging!"

"But Regulus just-"

"Shut up, Wormtail!"

The next few minutes were spent in almost complete silence. Had Sirius not dozed off, it would have easily been complete. Sadly, the reality of the situation was that he snored; forcing Remus to quickly flip through _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five_ to look for the Headache Curing Charm. Apparently, though, Sirius' thick skull was fairly resistant to charms. All that the charm got Remus was a groan and an incoherent complaint that he _thought_ had something to do with Quidditch, hot showers, and Poland.

Maybe it was better to just make Sirius learn his lesson on his own.


	2. Chapter 2: The Devious Plot

**Disclaimer: **These lovely characters still aren't mine, but I'll put them back when I'm done.

**Chapter Two - The Devious Plot**

Even after Madame Pomfrey assured Regulus that Lockhart was going to be completely fine, he remained defiantly by the blonde boy's bedside. It wasn't really that he wanted to, more that he didn't want to go to class, but it made him look like a "respectable Slytherin." Besides, it was just Potions. Slughorn would just mess up his hair and tell him to go over whatever they'd done in the book later. He might've even done that now, if he hadn't left his book bag in the Great Hall…what a bonehead thing to do. He'd deprived himself of anything worth doing, except skipping class to wait for this prat to wake up, but that was only enough to keep him barely awake. Why on Earth did the Hospital Wing have to be so deserted on the one day that Regulus Black has to grace it with his presence? Just the other day, Sirius, James, Snape, and a couple of unsuspecting Hufflepuffs had wound up in there together, and now the whole place was deserted…not even some stupid Herbology or Potions mishap to laugh at yet. Damn it all, a son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black should _not_ have had to make his own amusement; it should have come to him. That was what House Elves, first years, and gay older brothers were for…

Regulus choked back hard when his thoughts turned to Sirius, and he quickly looked at the unconscious Lockhart…good, he was still out. That was another thing about being of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black: daughters should never be seen as vulnerable flowers, and sons should never be seen thinking. Andromeda broke her rule, of course…running off with that poetry-writing Mudblood and having a kid. Rebel as always, Sirius tried to break his counterpart rule, but, regrettably, didn't really have the brains to think enough to be worth counting, which was probably why he was a Gryffindor in the first place. Granted, Regulus didn't think that often either, unless he had to for a homework assignment; thinking was useful, sure, but it hurt his brain and gave him headaches something awful. Still, he sighed, folded his fingers pensively, and stared down at Lockhart, trying to decide whether he felt contempt or apathy towards the unconscious blonde.

It probably hadn't worked…and he'd kissed a bloke too. That was new, not necessarily bad, just unfamiliar. In all fairness, he probably wasn't gay, and Lockhart most likely wasn't either, but he'd take both of them down if it didn't get attention. He'd gotten the whole Great Hall's attention this week; it was almost a shame that Sirius wasn't the type to write home to Mother. Bellatrix might have – and, as Narcissa's betrothed, Lucius might have also gotten in on the action – but only if she took his stunts seriously, which, unfortunately, she didn't. Regulus sighed morosely; it appeared that the time had come to find a new Thing…and this had been his best idea yet, too. And he hadn't even made it last a full _week_. He could always threaten to drop out and become Hagrid's assistant…that'd go over really well. Or there was always pretending to be suicidal again. That had earned him a whole week of father's pep-talks, Sirius' disbelieving snarls, and mother's threats of dragging him to Saint Mungo's for observation. It also carried the regrettable side effect of having to sleep on pillows with Anti-Suffocation Charms on them. On most counts, they were the same as normal pillows, but the things they did to his _hair_…disgusting.

Suddenly, Lockhart shuddered and groaned, making Regulus fall off his chair in shock. Recovering quickly, he pulled himself up dusted himself off, and sat back down, pouting haughtily and glaring at the blonde; Lockhart still smiled grimly as he sat up. Pomfrey would probably have a fit if she'd seen, but she was uncharacteristically absent.

"Regulus," Lockhart sighed languidly.

"_Lockhart_," Regulus whispered, holding onto the other boy's gaze with all the effort he could exert.

"…Why did you wait for me?"

"Good reason to not have to go to Care of Magical Creatures."

"You could've just not taken it."

"How was I supposed to know it'd be _useless_?"

"It's not _useless_; you're just not that good at it."

"_Shut up_…"

"…It didn't work, did it?"

Regulus blinked, and, once the shock had settled in, sighed vehemently, muttering various inaudible curses. For once, he broke his stare and shifted his gaze to the floor, wringing his hands for lack of something better to do with them.

"I doubt it," he grumbled finally. "Potter and Pettigrew seemed convinced, but Sirius wasn't, and Lupin definitely didn't believe it."

"I'm sorry." It sounded half-hearted, but it was better than nothing.

"Whatever, it's not _your_ fault. Guess I've gotta find a new thing to do…do you think I could pull off suicidal? I mean, I did it over the summer, yeah, but…dropping out to become Hagrid's apprentice is just too out there, and I-"

"Maybe you just weren't convincing enough…"

Whenever Snape mentioned some Muggle metaphor about thinking being a process of gears turning in a head, Regulus scoffed. It was probably just his Pureblood upbringing showing itself, but he really didn't like the idea of little metal things being the driving force behind his thoughts, few in numbers though they usually were. Now, though, he understood the comparison. His brain felt like it actually had things turning in it, and judging by Lockhart's cocked eyebrow and smug smirk, he was plotting something delightfully devious as well. Grinning, Regulus licked his lips and stared intently into Lockhart's eyes…they were blue, he'd never bothered to notice before.

"Lockhart…are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I would err on the side of yes. Merlin knows you love attention, and I could use some publicity myself…and this would definitely do it."

"And the girls love gay boys."

"That helps, yes."

"…You don't really feel like going to class, do you?"

"After I hit my head on the floor? _Hardly_."

"Kitchens?"

"Certainly."

A short walk and tickled pear later, Regulus leaned back against the counter in the kitchens, waiting patiently for one of the House Elves to bring the tea and food he'd asked for; Lockhart paced in front of him, absentmindedly fooling with his hair and scarf, scratching his head thoughtfully on occasion. Suddenly, he stopped walking with a sigh, closed his eyes and pushed his hair back with both hands, and actually adopted a pensive look. If he'd had glasses, it looked like he would've played with them. Right as the House Elf showed up – with a tray of tea, milk, sugar, leftover toast from breakfast, and two shining red apples – Lockhart let his hair fall back and put a hand on his chin. His eyes looked blank and far away as he stared at the wall. Briefly, Regulus wondered what he was getting into, but brushed it away and crunched into one of the apples.

"Tea?" he sighed through a mouthful of fruit, offering Lockhart an empty cup.

Lockhart nodded shortly and took the cup. Even just in his taking it, Regulus got a sense of how tense the blonde was making himself. His dark blue vein protruded dangerously from his thin arm and the far away look in his eye started to look hard, but he blinked quickly, shook his head, and got to work on his tea. What a freak…he took it with three sugars and about as much milk as tea; Regulus rolled his eyes a bit another chunk out of the apple.

"So…if we want to pull this off," he said in between chews. "We'll _really_ need to get it set up, since apparently snogging you in front of everyone isn't enough."

"Pet names," Lockhart whispered over his tea. "We should have pet names for each other…it'll be cute."

"Okay. Reggie and Gildy work for you?"

"I was going to suggest Reggie and Gilly, sounds cuter and less…idiotic."

"Whatever, that works, and…what else?"

"Well, we should hold hands a lot, and if you snuck a hand up my leg every now and then that would help…"

"What about other touching?"

"Face is good, arms are better…I'd rather you _didn't_ touch lower than my waist, but…if you have to do it, then go ahead."

"Eww, Lockhart. Merlin…"

"Just wanted to leave the options open. Also, please _try_ to be charming and act intelligent. I'd like to project the idea that I have _taste_ in who I date."

"I can be _charming_…and you're one to talk about intelligence."

"I have the highest grade of anyone in our year in Charms."

"Yeah, but Charms is useless!"

"It is not – look, this is getting us nowhere. Any ideas that _you_ have, or am I going to decide everything about this little farce?"

"No hugging, that's about it."

"…I give you permission to feel me up, and you say 'no hugging?' What the hell?"

"Think about it, Lockhart: you can touch someone you hate, you can kiss someone you don't love, and you can snog someone who means nothing to you…to hug, you have to mean it."

"You're basing this on _what_?"

"My brother and Lupin. What else? See, somehow Sirius conned our father into talking mother into letting him have Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew stay over this summer. Now that set _me_ right off because mother was too busy watching them to care that I was threatening to kill myself-"

"Completely dense idea for a stunt, by the way, but go on."

"Anyway, so I found out about them not because I saw them snogging or shagging or whatever, I saw them hugging."

"…_So_?"

"That's how they say the hard things without having to really say them! If you hug, it really means something…more than kissing anyway. I've kissed my fair share of girls and it doesn't mean anything to me. Kissing's superficial, and hugging's not, and I really don't want to deal with the possibility of anything happening…you know, with _us_."

Lockhart cocked an eyebrow. "Why's this then? Afraid I might sway you to the Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name?"

"_No_! I'm just being safe is all…besides, you like girls, don't you?"

"Of course I like girls! Which is why I-"

"No hugging, that's all I want."

"Fine. No hugging."

"Good…when do you want to show it off? Lunch? Dinner? Divination?"

"No, no. Let's wait until breakfast tomorrow."

"But wh-"

"Look," Lockhart explained curtly. "Had this happened without your little spectacle this morning, I'd go with dinner, but…let's face it. If we went to dinner prancing like a pair of nancy boys, we'd look pretty stupid. It would look _desperate_, it would look _foolish_, and, furthermore, it wouldn't look _convincing_. Also…your brother's a lot less coherent in the morning, so it's easier on us."

"Right then, morning."

Regulus gnawed into his lip slightly, but nodded in understanding. So Lockhart wasn't a complete idiot after all…surprising, but then, he _was_ a fellow Slytherin, which implied that he had at least _some_ brains. Granted, not everyone could be a genius like _Snape_, but that was just a sad and cruel fact of life. But tomorrow…_oh_ tomorrow…it couldn't come soon enough for Regulus, and he gave a cunning grin at the thought. When he looked over to Lockhart, his grin increased and one slowly spread on the blonde's lips as well; eyes locked, they nodded in unison. By the end of the year, they'd be as well-known at Hogwarts as any student could be.

Sirius, however, had not been able to shake his headache all day, which had produced interesting results when he'd accidentally set James' trousers on fire in Transfiguration, but was irritating nonetheless. And Remus was just sitting on his bed, doing _homework_ while his boyfriend writhed in pain – and shirtless – on his own bed. Clearly, he needed to get his priorities straightened out. Prefect or not, he should've known that Sirius and his headache were more important than some stupid essay for McGonagall. Besides, school was _school_…and Sirius Black didn't give his love to just _anyone_. Remus was intelligent, and kind, and cute, and sweet, and so adorably awkward sometimes, and he was a damn good hand at Charms, which was very useful with dating Sirius…and he wasn't afraid to tell someone when they were being an idiot, even if it was subtle and he did it to his bloody _boyfriend_. He was just a fucking charmer, but that didn't change that Sirius wanted some affection while he was ailing, and not just a Headache Curing Charm and a peck on the forehead either.

Groaning, he writhed a little more, hoping that Remus would get the message and come over to hug him, or play with his hair, or do _something_. But he didn't. He hummed some happy, Muggle tune and started flipping through his Charms textbook, like Sirius wasn't even there. No one could do that to Sirius Black…it was just unheard of! He'd have to get even, and he knew just the way. Sitting up made his head throb, but he stifled his groan so Remus wouldn't hear him. As quietly as he could be, aided by his bare feet, Sirius snuck across the space between his bed and Remus', and crawled in. Knocking over Remus' pile of books was an accident due to his long, sexy legs, but it was a welcome one. Remus barely had time to react before Sirius had his arms around the werewolf's waist and his head in his lap.

"_Reeeeemus_…" he whined, nuzzling Remus' stomach. "I'm _lonely_."

"You could try writing that Charms essay that's due on Friday," Remus chuckled lightly.

"But that means _thinking_. Thinking makes my brain hurt."

"It's supposed to do that, if you do it well enough."

"But my brain _already_ hurts…"

"But I did the charm an hour ago!"

"But it _hurts_…"

"Maybe if your skull weren't so bloody _thick_."

"How can you _make fun of me_ when my head _hurts_ and I have a weird sense of _foreboding_?"

"…Foreboding, Padfoot? I didn't even know you knew what that word meant."

"You're doing it _again_…"

Remus sighed and began scratching Sirius behind the ears, making the dark-haired boy shudder gleefully. On instinct, his left leg began to twitch happily, accidentally knocking all of Remus' scattered books to the floor. This was one of the carryovers between Sirius and Padfoot, and even James had admitted that it was pretty damn cute. Granted, it had only been a one time thing, but that didn't detract from the utter charm of a blissful, twitching Sirius. Slowly, a grin spilled across his face and he made a series of noises that were somewhere between a cough and a laugh. Then, as soon as he had started, Remus stopped, trading the scratching for running two of his fingers up and down Sirius' chest and stomach, which achieved the same result of shuddering, twitching, and endearing noises.

"Now what's all this foreboding nonsense?" Remus asked cheerfully.

"I dunno," Sirius sighed contentedly. "I…I…nope, it's gone now."

"I just have that kind of power, do I?"

"Yeah…but, still feels like something _bad's_ gonna happen. Dunno what, but…it won't be good."

"Being bad would entail that, yes."

"Shut up…can we shag?"

"We just did last night. I don't think James and Peter would appreciate that."

"Then can I stay here? _Please_?"

"Yes. Yes, you may."

"Love you, Remus."

"I love you too, Sirius."

Sirius sighed warmly and snuggled up closer to Remus…maybe it was just coincidence, but he felt like his headache was finally subsiding. Then again, maybe it was the fact that, regardless of Remus' insistence on doing his homework even while his boyfriend was being affectionate, his boyfriend's lap was decidedly more comfortable than the Hogwarts' pillows. Occasionally, Remus neglected his homework to reach up and scratch Sirius behind the ears again…and that was quite enough to get rid of that terrible sense of dread. Eventually, James and Peter came upstairs to the situation; Peter merely shrugged it off, and James groaned, vociferously lamenting how his best mates were getting action but Evans _still_ hadn't given in to his "obvious charms, good looks, talent, and intelligence." It sounded like Remus was saying something reasonable, but Sirius couldn't have cared less; he had a nice place for his head, and it was going to stay there, quite possibly all night long.


	3. Chapter 3: Setting Things In Motion

**Disclaimer: **These lovely characters still aren't mine; I'm just playing with them right now. David Bowie is _also_ not mine.**  
**

**Chapter Three: Setting Things Into Motion  
**

If Monday's breakfast had been a stunning show of sham exhibitionism, Tuesday's was shaping up to be even worse. Courtesy of Sirius falling asleep on his lap, Remus hadn't been able to break free, even just to put his pajamas on, and he'd slept in his uniform, which had proven to be terribly uncomfortable. Then, this morning, Sirius hadn't been roused by any of the conventional methods…even kissing and scratching behind the ears, which were supposed to always work. Finally, with James yelling in one ear, Peter simpering in the other, and a large pile of books on the floor to tidy up before class, Remus had shoved his hand into Sirius' trousers.

That had done it. Not only had it woken Sirius up and put him in The Mood at the most inopportune time of day, but it had also put a blush on Remus' face that refused to leave. Unfortunately, Sirius found it cute and was only encouraged, and James took it as an open season to make fun of his "pet poufs." Needless to say, the morning had not started well. Spotting Regulus and Lockhart in a dark alcove wasn't exactly what Remus needed, especially when the former's older brother begged him to "be a good Prefect and turn them in." Unfortunately, there wasn't anything Remus could do. Regulus and Lockhart _looked_ shady enough, and were in a decidedly shady corner, but Lockhart was only messing with Regulus' collar, and that was hardly worth _noticing_, let alone reporting to McGonagall. And Sirius' feeling around his lap while Remus was _trying_ to have some breakfast before Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't appreciated either.

Doom was officially sealed when Regulus came into breakfast with his fingers entwined with Gilderoy Lockhart's. Remus sighed and tried to avert his eyes, but those two still came over to the Gryffindor table. Bugger all, today was _going_ to be terrible.

"_Lockhart_," Regulus hissed as the blonde boy pressed him up against the niche's brick wall. "Come _on_, they're _right there_."

"Sssh," Lockhart spat dangerously.

With a quick, methodical efficiency, the blonde set about doing some ridiculously long list of tasks. First, he lifted Regulus' sweater vest and shoved the loose shirttails into his trousers; when Regulus opened his mouth to protest, he was met with a fiery, silence-inducing glare, and he shut himself up obediently. He'd seen the same look from girls, Sirius, and their mother before, and he _knew_ that pressing his luck – especially when this blonde git was going along with his scheme – would not end well. Next, Lockhart proceeded to retie his tie and straighten the collar of his shirt, and then smooth out his hair…the last time he'd been preened over this much was for the Malfoys' Christmas party. At least he wasn't wearing his stuffy dress robes this time. Merlin, he hated those dress robes. Sirius got nice, red ones, and he had to wear high-collared black things…they were itchy, uncomfortable, generally unpleasant, and he hated them.

Finally, Lockhart glared down at Regulus' feet, and Regulus shifted his gaze as well. He shrugged when he got an exasperated, reprimanding stare.

"Did you have to wear _those_?" Lockhart hissed.

"_What_?" Regulus huffed. "They're just _trainers_."

"They're _filthy_. No one's going to believe that you're gay if you wear filthy shoes…or look like you just rolled out of bed-"

"But I _did_ just-"

"Shut up. Just because you _did_ doesn't mean you have to _look_ like it."

"But I…_Lockhart_-"

"Couldn't you have worn those nice, dragon-hide boots?"

"No, they're for _special_ things."

"You'll have to make an _exception_ then; change them at lunch."

"Sirius wears trainers and everyone thinks _he's_ gay."

"That's because – and this may be _news_ to you – he _is_. There's nothing to _believe_ because everyone _knows_."

"Lupin wears trainers-"

"That's because he's _dirt poor_, which is why _all_ his stuff is low-quality."

"Uhm…er…I've run out of gay guys."

"Look, Regulus. Let's make an example out of David Bowie here-"

"What's a David Bowie?"

"…He's a Muggle rock star. Clearly, this isn't going to work, so I'll just show you pictures later. Point is-"

"Is he gay?"

"Certainly looks like it. Anyway, that doesn't matter. Now, do you remember what you're going to do?"

Regulus sighed and recited, "I'm going to be _charming_, and _intelligent_. And we're going to _hold hands_, I will play with your hair and call you Gilly, and I won't snog you this time."

"What are you going to do _instead_?"

"I'm going to kiss your forehead, and maybe your lips. What are _you_ doing while I do all this shit?"

"Me? I'm going to be the fawning, fabulous, and completely in love boyfriend. Now what's our story?"

"After I snogged you yesterday, you realized that, for the past three years, you've been madly in love with me. I'm kind of in lust, but don't mind the attention, so we're going out…hey, Lockhart? Let me ask you something."

"You already _have_. But anyway: what?"

"What if this doesn't work?"

"…What are you _talking_ about? Of course it'll work!"

"I dunno…Sirius didn't seem convinced-"

"Regulus, trust me. This might _take_ some _time_, but it'll work. Besides, if nothing else soothes you, the first Hogsemeade weekend is coming up soon, so-"

"Oh _yeah_! We get to do _Hogsmeade_ this year! Should've remembered, it took a lot of work to get mum to sign the form-"

"I don't _care_. Now, come on, or Crabbe and Goyle will have eaten everything before we get any."

"…But that's not what we're worried about…"

"Did it _ever_ occur to you that you could be affectionate and feed me? Or that sausages are served _every morning_ and are _incredibly_ phallic?"

"…What does that mean?"

"…I'll tell you when you're older. Now, come on, boyfriend…and don't forget to smile, or I _will_ hex your eyebrows off."

"Right. Smile. Got it."

Regulus sighed, looked at the wall behind Lockhart, and he forced a smile onto his face. Judging by how Lockhart sighed and pulled him out of the alcove and into the corridor, and then into the Hall. Sirius, Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew were all sitting together, as usual…and they were at the center of the Gryffindor table too. Excellent – by this time tomorrow, everyone would be talking about the torrid Black-Lockhart affair and it would be marvelous. Grinning, Regulus wrapped his fingers into Lockhart's, and felt his grin grow as Lockhart put the other, simpering hand on his wrist. Just this and he could tell: this was _going_ to be _good_; the stares he got from Sirius and Lupin only affirmed this, and, with confident relish, Regulus licked his lips and strode forward, Lockhart at his side. They paused by Sirius and Lupin, and Lockhart put his hear on Regulus' shoulder…for not being gay, he sure was good at acting like it.

"Morning, Gryffindor," Lockhart sighed warmly, looking at them like they were merely a distraction.

"_Regulus_," Sirius groaned; Lupin put a hand on his shoulder, probably to keep him from exploding. "_What_ in the name of Merlin's _paisley pants_ are you _doing_!"

"Well, _Siri_," Regulus explained, adding relish with Bella's favorite nickname for Sirius (second only to "blood-traitor brat"). "Yesterday I learned something _terribly_ interesting, and I thought you'd like to know."

"If this is about how '_gay_' you are-"

"Oh, it's not. It's about how my darling Gilly here is _madly_ in love with me."

"You're _kidding_, right?" Potter huffed as Pettigrew snickered, "_Gilly_!"

"Regulus," Lupin sighed. "Honestly, we don't _care_. Please leave."

"I think they're _jealous_, Reggie dear."

"Why would we be _jealous_?" Sirius spat. "I have Remus, Peter doesn't need anyone, and…well, James doesn't _quite_ have Evans yet, but he's got his right hand, and that's just as good."

"…I will _kill_ you, Black."

"Like to see you _try_, Potter."

"How _cute_," Lockhart simpered. "Unrequited love."

"It's not unrequited! She just hasn't come 'round yet!"

"Kind of reminds me of me, before…well…_you know_."

And he giggled too. And nuzzled closer to Regulus' neck…damn, Lockhart really was good at this. Almost good enough to…no, not that good. However, he _was_ good enough to make Regulus feel lazy, and that wasn't good in an endeavor like this. Delicately, he placed a finger under Lockhart's chin, raised his head up, and – instead of snogging him madly, as Sirius' groan seemed to suggest he would – rubbed his nose to Lockhart's affectionately, ending with a light kiss on the forehead. It was an intricate procedure, one that he'd seen Sirius do for Lupin on a regular basis, and its culmination came with a light, musical, and utterly infatuated-sounding sigh from Lockhart. Moving as one, they looked back to the Gryffindors: Lupin and Sirius both looked disbelieving, but Pettigrew had cocked an eyebrow, and Potter was gaping wide-eyed.

"I can't believe third-years can get action, and I-"

"James," Pettigrew said comfortingly. "It's not like they have a lot of _choice_…I mean, the selection of fairy boys is them, Sirius and Remus-"

"And Snivellus," Potter added, rolling his eyes.

"Oh yeah, him too…but he's greasy and no one likes him. Besides, mate, it's not like you couldn't have someone _other_ than Evans…"

"But I want _Evans_!"

"Isn't it _adorable_, Gilly?" Regulus sighed, looking down the table at Evans, whose head had perked up at the mention of her name. "The sweet little straight boy wants _love_…"

"You're not _gay_, Regulus," Sirius snapped. "So stop pretending or else-"

"Or else I'm _going_ to report you, take away points, and get you into detention," Lupin sighed.

"That's what you said _yesterday_. Anyway, it'd hardly be _right_ for the professors to punish _us_ when they leave you and my brother alone. And Gilly _loves_ me, don't you, Gilly?"

"Completely, madly, and with all my _heart_." He could do a sing-song voice too…oh, Merlin, this had to work.

"Except for the part where _you're_ a fancy lad _prat_ and _he's _a spineless yes-man," Sirius huffed, rolling his eyes.

"This is _real_! We're in _love_!"

"You're _thirteen_; you don't even know what that _means_!"

"Do so!"

"I'm not a yes-man!"

"And what about _you_? If _I_ don't know what that means, then – AUGH!"

A perfect interruption came in the form of Professor Minerva McGonagall twisting both Regulus and Lockhart's ears, while Evans glared at them, hands on her hips. Throwing her Gryffindor red hair over one shoulder, she turned her penetrating stare to Pettigrew (who whimpered), Sirius (who raised an eyebrow like the cocky bastard he was), and, finally, to Potter (who looked on the verge of dying from joy). And McGonagall kept her fingers on Regulus and Lockhart's ears, pinching hard enough to make both of them explode in pain. Still, Regulus kept himself in reality enough that he saw Evans' clear bias towards Lupin…damn it, he didn't want to have to be a _sensitive_ gay guy to get some attention around here; that was Lockhart's job.

"And _that_, boys," Evans explained haughtily. "Is how you deal with trouble-making Slytherins."

"Uh _huh_," Potter simpered. "Go on…"

"…That's _it_, Potter. It's completely simple. And, Black…_younger_ Black and Lockhart, next time someone tells you to leave us alone and go to your _own_ table, _do it_."

"_Make me_, Evans!" Regulus spat; in response, McGonagall twisted harder on his ear. "_Merlin_, professor, I got it already!"

"No, Mister Black," McGonagall said curtly. "I don't think you do."

"_I_ do, professor!" Lockhart whined…that bloody prat was trying to skip out on getting the same amount of punishment for the same stunt. Prat. "You can let me go, _honest_! I've learned my lesson about bothering Gryffindors at breakfast!"

"No, Mister Lockhart, I don't believe I've made my point _clear_ yet."

On "clear," she twisted her wrists in with enough force to turn both of their heads and garner louder shrieks. Lockhart looked about on the verge of tears, the nance. What a bloody prat…first, he tried to get out of punishment, and then he couldn't even take it with some bloody dignity. And Regulus had agreed to pretend that he was dating this thick git. In retrospect, this really seemed like a mistake, but, finally, McGonagall let up slightly and it stopped seeming like such a death sentence.

"And just to make _sure_," she continued, "that my _point_ has gotten across: you two have just lost fifteen points for Slytherin-"

"_Fifteen_!" Regulus and Sirius both shouted.

"_Fine_, _then_. _Twenty_."

"Keep taking points away, professor," Sirius chuckled, grinning with a smug superiority complex that didn't suit him. "It looks terribly lovely on you."

"Mister Black the Elder," McGonagall huffed, "the _only_ reason I'm going to tolerate that remark from you is that you _obviously_ don't mean it." She nodded her head at Lupin, who blushed profusely. "But, if you keep taking such pleasure in your brother and Lockhart's punishment, I won't hesitate to dispense it to you as well."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, Mister Black the Younger and Mister Lockhart. Are you quite satisfied with losing twenty points for this shenanigan?"

"Yes, professor!" they chorused.

"Well, I'm not. I would've thought that _both_ of you would have _learned_ after yesterday morning – points lost and a head injury certainly _seem_ like things that any reasonable student would have learned from – but, since you haven't, you will serve out the rest of this week's evenings in _detention_, with _me_."

"But, professor," Regulus moaned. "Malfoy's holding _Quidditch_ practice on Thursday-"

"I don't care, Mister Black. You might be a Slytherin Chaser, but you are a Slytherin _student_ first, and you must be treated as such." She released their ears, but quickly stood them up straight, somehow managing to glare at each boy simultaneously _and_ keep a domineering hand on one of each boy's shoulders. "I expect you in my office at seven this evening, leave your wands in your dormitory, and, _yes_, Mister Black, I _will_ check. Now…get to your own table."

"Yes, professor." they squeaked.

Without another word of protest, Lockhart took Regulus by the wrist and pulled him away to the Slytherin table. Once they were safely out of McGonagall's prying glance – and forced to face the grim reality that (gasp, shock, and horrors) Malfoy had let Crabbe and Goyle eat all the good breakfast…_again_ – Lockhart immediately darkened. Under most circumstances, Regulus might have said something…but an annoying little voice in the back of his head distinctly told him that this was not the time. So he took to glaring up and down the table at whomever he pleased, to Hell with the consequences.

Bella came first, flanked by Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. Bloody hell, she had terrible taste in company. Granted, Rodolphus was, unfortunately, her fiancée, and Regulus could never _say_ this to her, for fear of having his ears hexed off like she did to Sirius once, but…the Lestrange brother were creepy, and the thought of being _related _to them was, if anything, _worse_. Malfoy wasn't that much better, smarmy little arsebasket, but at least he and Narcissa made an attractive Head Boy and Girl; this didn't say much for their mammoth bodyguards, but you couldn't be pretty if you had to guard pretty people. That was just a cruel fact of life that they came off the worse on.

And then there was Snape, who also appeared to have been shorted a breakfast. At least that git could read to distract himself from the facts that: A. Crabbe and Goyle were terrible gluttons, and B. Barty Crouch was currently sleeping on his shoulder. Lucky little prat…Snape, that was, not Crouch. Crouch had to be completely starkers to sleep on Snape…he was so _greasy_. Finally, everyone else got to be boring and Regulus returned his view to Lockhart. He hadn't gotten better during Regulus' distraction and was now hunched over, with his hands to his temples, mussing his hair, and threatening to bore holes through the back of the unfortunate Hufflepuff he was staring in the direction of. Cautiously, Regulus raised a finger and poked him lightly in the arm; he groaned and flopped, face-first, onto his empty place. Seeing no other solution, Regulus poured him a goblet of pumpkin juice; it went completely ignored.

"Lockhart?" Regulus ventured. "_Lockhart_?"

"_Shut up_," Lockhart snapped. "I'm _thinking_."

"You can _think_?" Crouch chuckled; apparently, he hadn't been sleeping and was now quite amused with himself. "I was under the impression that you just gave birth to hare-brained schemes at two in the morning."

"I don't stay _up_ that late; it's bad for your _skin_."

"…And the Gryffindors don't believe that you're gay _why_?"

"_Hell_. _If_. _I_. _Know_. That's what I'm trying to figure _out_, Crouch! Now, I'm going back to my thinking, if you'll be so kind."

"Like I said: you can _think_."

"_Shut up_."

"He raises a good point," Snape huffed, lowering his book. "You two are rather…_dense_."

"Are not!" Regulus pouted. "Well…I can't vouch for _Lockhart_, but I'm not."

"Do you _want_ to do this _alone_," Lockhart snarled. "Because I _can_ abandon you."

"Lockhart," Snape asked simply. "Is this entire thing Black the Younger's idea?"

Lockhart raised his head and stared at Snape. "Mostly, yes."

"Ah, thank you; you've just proven my point."

"…_Okay_? So?"

"_Merlin_," Crouch sighed, sounding as exasperated as McGonagall. "Sev, I wasn't this stupid last year was I?"

"No, thank Merlin. And I certainly wasn't as a third-year…the quality of teaching these children is slipping; it's pathetic. And don't call me 'Sev.'"

"Totally…"

"We're not children!" Regulus interjected. "We're thirteen!"

"_Yeah_," Crouch laughed derisively. "You're still kids."

"You only _just_ turned fourteen, prat!"

"Which makes me not a kid anymore, stupid."

"…I don't _get_ it."

Lockhart moved his plate aside and took to hitting his forehead lightly against the table; sighing, Snape conjured a pillow. Soon enough, the poor, harmless pillow wound up in a tray of Hufflepuff eggs and Slytherin lost five more points.

"And I don't quite understand why you two insist on demeaning our House in this manner," Snape retorted, once the tumult had died down.

"…Because Lockhart wants attention and I want my mum to stop being obsessed with Sirius?" Regulus sighed; this was supposed to be obvious. Everything was obvious to Snape.

"Why isn't it _working_?" Lockhart groaned into the table. "What do we have to _do_ to make them believe it?"

"You could just _stop_," Crouch answered simply.

"Why would we want to do _that_?"

"Because, Black," Snape explained curtly. "You are losing points for Slytherin, getting yourself into detention – which means you won't do your homework, which means more points lost for Slytherin – and, frankly, you're giving us a worse image than Malfoy and the Lestranges combined…and I don't know about _you_, but I'd rather not lose the House Cup to Gryffindor…_again_."

"But, I…"

"Just stop being idiots and do something productive already."

"But this _is_ productive!"

"_How_?"

Regulus paused, and, for the second time in two days, he found himself speechless. And Lockhart was usually good with making up excuses and fake reasons that somehow made sense…but he was in a right state, which was _just_ Regulus' luck. He darted his eyes around from Bella and her boys, to Lucius fawning over Narcissa, to Crabbe and Goyle being told off by some Ravenclaw Prefect for trying to steal food…damn it! Why wasn't anything giving him a good idea for an answer? Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and it was both distinctly female and not McGonagall's…and two more soon joined it. Apparently, Lockhart had a few on his shoulders, because he pricked up as well. Moving as one, they turned around and were immediately faced with a flock of third-year girls (Regulus picked out three Hufflepuffs, two Slytherins, two Ravenclaws, and a stray Gryffindor…Merlin, if this wasn't working perfectly in its imperfection…), all staring at the two of them with huge puppy-dog eyes. One of the Hufflepuffs stepped forward; she was a cute blonde with big, green eyes; Regulus had dated her last year, though her name escaped him completely.

"'scuse me," she said cautiously. "Reggie and Gilly?"

"Yes?" they answered in unison.

"…We all had…uhm…a _question_ for you."

"Okay, shoot," Regulus sighed nonchalantly.

"Are you two really gay?"

"…_Yes_." Lockhart made a simpering little noise and nuzzled up close to Regulus, his blonde head on the shoulder again. "And we're very much in love."

The blonde Hufflepuff turned to the Gryffindor. "_Told _you."

"Can we do anything for you wonderful girls?" Regulus asked, forcing a charming Black Trademark Smile. "Help you pick out dress robes in Hogsmeade, perhaps?"

There was a collective sigh amongst all the girls – even the two Ravenclaws; Regulus hadn't believed that their kind had been capable. Bookish, sarcastic girls hadn't ever seemed the type to sigh…especially at the thought of two gay guys with smashing good looks. Still, a sigh was a sigh. One exchange of glances between himself and Lockhart gave Regulus an idea: he raised himself up, then helped Lockhart up as well, and then took both of their bags. Even though his back felt like it would give out, the girls sighs made everything worth it. Taking Lockhart's hand again, he cast a quick look at Snape.

"_That's_ how." He grinned, with full knowledge that, courtesy of convenience, he'd won.

"…Sex and fan clubs _aren't_ productive," Snape huffed.

"Well, I don't know about _that_," Crouch sighed off-handedly.

"Come on, Gilly darling…we mustn't be late for _Potions_."

"Of course not, Reggie my love," Lockhart whispered warmly.

And they walked out together, followed by the throng of girls. And Regulus was quite sure he heard Sirius say something to the effect of "We don't have a _fan club_, Moony" as they did. Maybe they'd get this scheme to work yet…it had certainly worked on the girls, which was as good a start as any.


	4. Chapter 4: Of Werewolves and Bad Poetry

**Disclaimer: **None of these fine young characters are mine, sadly. However, I will play nicely and bring them back when I'm done.

**A/N: **This chapter is rather Sirus/Remus-centric, as I felt the need to explain why Sirius is ungodly tired, rather than just having him say it. Also, Snape gets a say in things, finally.

**Chapter Four: Of Werewolves and Bad Poetry**

Sirius groaned loudly, dropped his bag near the foot of the bed, and fell spitefully back into the mattress without taking off his shoes; Remus removed both pairs before crawling into bed as well and nuzzling Sirius's neck. Another groan came – albeit a softer one – and he wrapped an arm around Sirius's waist. This appeared to mollify him slightly, as the groaning turned to sighing and he turned his head to give Remus a peck on the forehead…his lips were a little rough and chapped, but, given how the past two weeks had gone for him, it appeared that everyone was incredibly lucky that he hadn't killed someone yet. First, there was Regulus, who hadn't stopped pretending to date Lockhart yet, despite several rants from Lily and Sirius; this, however, was turning out to be the least of the problems.

Second, there were Malfoy and Bellatrix; Narcissa, ever the proper one, opted to keep herself out of everything related to this mess (except Malfoy, as James lewdly pointed out, earning himself a smack on the back of the head). Malfoy and Bellatrix, however, had both taken it upon themselves – as Sirius's cousin and to-be-cousin-in-law – to owl his mum about Regulus's behavior. In her gloriously bitchy manner, Mrs. Black had sent Sirius his third Howler this year, demanding to know, and during breakfast too, why he wasn't watching over Regulus. And, before it exploded in flame, it threw in cheap shots at his sexuality and Remus. As usual, Peter had asked the question everyone wanted to, but no one else would: "How the Hell can the bitch's throat survive that?" Regulus had been worse, though, and had taken the opportunity to kick while his brother was down: much to their fan club's undisguised delight, he had presented Lockhart with flowers he'd transfigured from carrots (they were still brilliant orange) and terribly-written poetry; Lockhart swooned, simpered, and was generally disgusting. Poetry was something Remus could appreciate…but rhymed couplets were completely passé.

And then today, Sirius had been told off by Evans for being a "sulking git," by McGonagall for accidentally setting fire to Peter's attempts at transfiguring a bullfrog into a bell, and then by Malfoy for being "a complete disgrace to such an ancient name." And _then_ James had considered it a good idea to turn Lockhart's hair bubblegum pink in the middle of the library. It _was_ a NEWT-level spell, and he _did_ manage to pull it off…but Regulus had only been encouraged, which caused in uproar in the fan club, which had attracted Madam Pince, who quickly set Lockhart's hair right and wormed out James and Peter. Granted, they _had_ been having a laugh about it behind a bookshelf, so she hadn't had much work. She then proceeded to drag them, by the ears, up to McGonagall's office; twenty points were lost and they had detention for a week, and…

"I will _kill_ those _gits_," Sirius hissed, glaring at the ceiling.

"That's unnecessary," Remus sighed warmly, tightening his hug. "Wouldn't want you to go to Azkaban for killing your best mates, would we?"

"But, _Moony_…"

"What would _I_ do knowing that you did that and were in prison? Who would invade my personal space while I'm doing homework?"

"…Fine. I won't kill them…but they deserve it."

"Padfoot, if you deserved death for every time _you_ got detention, you wouldn't even be a _ghost_."

"_But_…this is _different_. I mean, it's not _enough_ that James has to fly in the match against Slytherin next week – even the best Chasers need practice, right? – but…the full moon's on _Saturday_, Moony!"

"I'm well aware of that."

"But…they'll be in detention with McGonagall; it'll just be us."

"Yes, it will be."

"Aren't you _worried_, or anything?"

"No, not really. Sure, James is the biggest one, and Peter makes an amazing scout…but I like you the best."

"That means a lot, love."

"I think you can handle me; you're good enough. Besides – wolf, dog…same difference."

"Not really, Mister Meticulous."

"Closer than a stag and a _rat_."

"Well, I _guess_ so…"

"And I love you."

"You'll forget that as soon as you're the wolf."

"But you won't, or, at least, you _shouldn't_. And that can be your motivation, and it's a very good one, if I do say so myself."

Sirius smiled and mussed Remus's hair. "Ever the smart one, aren't you, Moony?"

"I try, Pads."

"Want me to get notes for you on Friday?"

"In Potions, yes _please_…" Remus yawned. "I'm going to _fail_ that OWL, I _know _it…and Slughorn bloody hates me."

"No, he doesn't…"

"Says you…he _loves_ you. Only softened up to me when Snape and James outed us in class. But, anyway, yes for that, don't bother for Charms and Defense, I've got top marks in those…and don't try _too_ hard for Divination. Probably won't have too many notes for that anyway…"

"_Yeah_…why are we taking that again?"

"You thought it would be _easy_."

"Oh…right. Why didn't you tell me I was being stupid?"

"Because we signed up in second year, and I was still reeling from how you, James, and Peter didn't abandon me when you found out about my furry little problem."

"Oh…_right_…are you sure it wasn't because you were too busy staring at my unspeakably hot arse?"

"Sirius…you were _twelve_."

"So? I was an incredibly pretty twelve-year-old."

"…You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have it any other way."

"No, Pads, I really wouldn't."

"Love you, Remus."

But Remus didn't respond. It took Sirius a moment to notice, but the hand on his waist had moved to his shoulder, and Remus was now sleeping peacefully, with his head on the other one, pressed up against Sirius's side. He could always fall asleep quickly, the lucky bugger, and…he was beautiful, in waking and sleeping. He'd never admit it, of course – he was modest like that – but this didn't keep Sirius from telling him every time he got to…or from kissing his forehead, even though he couldn't feel it anymore. And, slowly, his warmth lulled Sirius to sleep.

Sirius watched out the dormitory window, waiting for the first signs of Remus and Pomfrey moving across the lawn. The sky outside was already dark pink, getting close to purple…damn, she was taking her sweet time, probably checking Remus over for any new developments before escorting him out. If she _really_ wanted to know, she could have just asked Sirius, and he would've willingly told her that there were no new developments, save that the whole Regulus-Lockhart fiasco was giving them both unnecessary stress (luckily for him, he manifested it more, which would mean shoulder massages once Remus was well). Finally, two shadows flitted across the grounds, and one helped the other past the Whomping Willow and down into the tunnel. Moving quickly, Sirius grabbed his wand and James's Invisibility Cloak, and barreled down the stairs, knocking over Evans and a couple of first-years as he did. She yelled at him as he kept running, but she'd have to wait until morning.

When he reached the door to the grounds, he put the Cloak on and proceeded on his course. Although the night air was crisp and cool, he kept up his pace; Remus was going to need him very shortly, and he hadn't been late for a date yet. The process was still new to him – this was only the second time he'd gone down the tunnel with a sense of urgency – but he only got scratched on the way. When he joined Remus in the upper level of the Shack, he was undressed and sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket. He smiled softly as Sirius crossed to him, and made some indecipherable, happy noise as Sirius hugged him around the shoulders.

He knew it wouldn't last long – by now, it was already dark, and the moon would be up soon enough, full of those madness-causing rays – which had to be why he held on so tightly. This wasn't _fair_. Remus never hurt anything intentionally, and accidental pain causing upset him terribly (even if it was just bumping into Snivellus or stepping on a bug)…he didn't _deserve_ this. And he was so _calm_ about it, or had been since he'd been relieved of his monthly excuse making in second year. Sirius couldn't understand how he could be so bloody _calm_ before such a terrible storm, and he held on tighter, as though a hug could stop the inevitable. He buried his face in Remus's shoulder; there wasn't much space, since Remus was bloody skinny, but it helped him keep himself collected, which wasn't helped by Remus stroking his hair. But at least he was trying. With forced stoicism, Sirius pulled away and marveled at how Remus was still smiling.

"It'll be okay, Pads," he sighed lovingly. "We're used to this by now, right? You can be a big, brave dog for me?"

"You're a braver bloke than me, Moony."

"I most certainly am not. Almost wound up in Ravenclaw."

"That's 'cos you're brilliant, you prat." Sirius playfully stuck out his tongue.

"You flatter me."

"'cos it's _true_."

"Now, Sirius Black, I just don't-"

He cut himself with a sort of choking gasp. He doubled over in pain, but swatted Sirius's hand away when he tried to help…and then Sirius saw why: the moon had come up while he'd been distracted. Moonlight flooded over Remus, and it usually would've been attractive, had it not meant what it did. With strength he didn't usually have, he pushed Sirius back into the stray chair. Holding onto the blanket for dear life, he slid off the mattress, hovering dangerously above the floor, only a few inches between his nose and hard wood. A groan came, then another, and then there was the ominous, cracking sound of bones enlarging themselves. Remus's face began to elongate, becoming a muzzle and growing fangs, and his hands curled with the pain of turning into paws.

It officially wasn't safe to be human, and Sirius quickly shifted into Padfoot. He approached Remus – the ears were elongating now; it was about halfway there – and gave him a supportive lick on the cheek. He came up with a mouthful of hair…at least the transformation was almost done now. A tail began coming out from Remus's back as the fur spread and claws grew from both sets of paws. Quickly, his moans turned into a long howl and it was done: he was the wolf now, further demonstrated by how he dragged his claws across his arm, wailing in the way the villagers in Hogsmeade had become accustomed to. It was still new for Sirius – he'd only heard it twice before, and the first time, he couldn't do anything about it – but Remus was still in the wolf somewhere, and he was the one who'd have to deal with the scars in the morning, so Sirius had to do everything to keep him from hurting himself. Padfoot barked at him, hoping he sounded dangerous, or, at least, distracting.

The wolf snapped his head up to look at the dog; Padfoot shook himself out, trying to look bigger and more intimidating. It didn't work. The wolf leapt up and they circled each other, staring intently the whole time. Padfoot barked again, saying, "Back down." But a clear swipe at his face – just barely dodged, and his forehead still got hit – reminded him that, no matter how much Remus was in there, he was not dealing with _him_ right now. They repeated similar processes, punctuated by occasional fleeing on Padfoot's part, until they were near the trap door and the moon went down, letting the sky turn gray with predawn light. Luckily, the wolf collapsed on the couch as the new illumination seeped into the Shack and slowly turned back into Remus. Since it was safe now, Sirius also shifted back.

Delicately, Sirius lifted him and took him upstairs, wrapping him in the blanket and setting him on the mattress. Unfortunately, he didn't have Pomfrey's medical supplies, but…at least the wounds weren't deep or numerous this time. Although Remus wasn't aware of it – damn heavy sleeper…okay, he wasn't as bad as Sirius after the full moon, but he was still pretty bad – Sirius cast a quick Soothing Spell and kissed his cheek before putting the Cloak on and heading back to Gryffindor Tower for _his_ well-deserved rest.

That didn't last long. Completely disrespecting his late night, James and Peter dragged him out of bed after only a few hours…couldn't have been more than five, but, either way, it wasn't nearly enough. In his daze, he wound up in one of Peter's too-big t-shirts and a pair of Remus's too-small trousers, with James's socks on his hands. He tried again, this time winding up in James's pajama bottoms and Remus's jumper; eventually, after three more failures, James gave up and handed him his own clothes. At breakfast, he dozed off and gracelessly fell into the plate of food that Peter got together for him, prompting Evans to skip harassing him about the previous night to ask him if he was all right instead.

But that was just the least of his problems, and Regulus's French poetry (badly written _and_ badly translated) was the least of his and Lockhart's Sunday stunts.

First, Sirius went to the Hospital Wing to see Remus and deliver the monthly Honeyduke's Special Dark; he was pale and appeared to have developed a weak cold – and he apologized so profusely for the scratch on Sirius's forehead that Sirius had to kiss him to shut him up – but was otherwise okay. Then he apologized for being sick while kissing Sirius, thereby making him sick, so Sirius decided that it was a better idea to feed him his chocolate. And even though it was a _Hospital Wing_, full of _sick people_, Regulus and Lockhart were there, fawning loudly over some clumsy member of their fan club, who'd been unlucky enough to be alone in a corridor with Peeves…and each other, to the girl's obvious joy. Unfortunately, the rules said that, since they were just being annoying prats, Remus couldn't make them leave…so he assured Sirius that he could handle himself and told him to go write his essay on counter-curses for Defense. Sighing, Sirius kissed him good-bye and obliged.

And those two gits followed him to the bloody _library_ with the rest of their fan club in tow. It took an incredible amount of Remus-like restraint to not go over and kick their teeth in…to his credit, though, Regulus had moved on to that Shakespeare Muggle. Man might not have had magic, but his poetry sure worked like it on Remus. Granted, Regulus didn't seem to know what the Hell he was _saying_, but at least it wasn't his own poetry…or in bloody French. After two hours of pawing through books, expanding on what was said and putting it in his own words, and listening to Regulus's rendition of "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" (_nine_ bloody times!), he stormed out of the library, through the corridors, and into the bright sunlight. Maybe some fresh air would do him good, besides, failing that, outside was on fire with autumn leaves and huge, Halloween pumpkins, so it was much more fun than the stupid, bloody castle.

Only that Regulus and Lockhart followed him _there_ too, loudly romping and tickling each other in Hagrid's leaf piles. Sirius _tried _to have fun rolling in the leaves…but he didn't have a Remus to cuddle or a Peter and James to have a leaf-fight with, so the only thing he got out of it was leaf-bits in his hair. So he turned into Padfoot and tried _again_ to enjoy himself; it failed. If only the stupid full moon hadn't been yesterday…then he'd have his Remus and those idiots and their charade would be slightly more tolerable…_slightly_. Fed up with that insufferable giggling, he traipsed back insider…and they bloody followed him there too! And, apparently, respect for the solitude of the corridors was something completely lacking in their year.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Regulus sighed loudly.

"Oh, love," Lockhart simpered. "You _have_…_thirteen_ times by now. I'd much rather hear _your_ poetry again."

The fan club voiced unanimous approval, and Regulus began prattling off his mangled French again. Just to test them, Sirius stopped walking, almost knocking over Snivellus, who was carrying several books and looked slightly more displeased than usual…and his hair was dripping wet, making a nicely sized trail of water behind him. His face darkened as he looked over Sirius's shoulder at Regulus, Lockhart, and their group-minded collective of girls.

"Black," he huffed blandly.

"Snape," Sirius growled. "…You're wet."

"Yes, and for once it's not _your_ fault."

"…Interesting…only not…"

"…I don't speak French, but I think your brother's murdering it."

"He is…Merlin, I want to _throttle_ both of them…"

"I never thought we'd _agree_ on something."

"It's bloody infuriating…they've been tailing me all _bloody day_…"

"Try living with them. Even with different dorms, they're not fond of leaving me alone."

"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi," Regulus purred, "ce soir?"

Sirius twitched violently, which was apparently creepy enough to make Snivellus raise an eyebrow.

"I had no idea you respected other languages, Black."

"_No_," Sirius groaned. "He got _that much_ right! I'm just going to _kill_ him!"

"…May I advise against doing illegal things?"

"I'm _only_ going to kill him a _little_!"

"Why isn't Lupin giving you a Cheering Charm right about now?"

"_He's sick and in the Hospital Wing_!"

"Oh, _Reggie_," Lockhart sighed. "I _love_ you…"

"Not as much as I love _you_, Gilly."

"_Black_…you're _convulsing_…"

"Oh, _Reggie_, you're _so_ **_sweet_**…"

"And good-looking?"

"_Yes_, that too. And your _poetry_-"

"IS BLOODY _TERRIBLE _IF YOU HADN'T _NOTICED_!" Sirius exploded, whipping around fast enough to miss the look of mild shock registering on Snape's face.

"…Excuse me?" Regulus sputtered.

"JUST WHAT I SAID! YOUR POETRY IS TERRIBLE, AND SO ARE YOUR ATTEMPTS AT PRETENDING TO BE GAY!"

"…But we're _not _pretending, Sirius!"

"YES, YOU DAMN WELL ARE! TRUST ME, REGULUS! I'M _GAY_, AND I _THINK_ I CAN RECOGNIZE MY OWN KIND OF BLOKES!"

"Not very _well_, apparently," Lockhart huffed incredulously.

"AND _YOU_! WEARING FLAMBOYANT COLORS AND SIMPERING LIKE A PRAT DOES _NOT_ MAKE YOU GAY! NEITHER OF YOU ARE GAY, LET ALONE A COUPLE, SO WILL YOU EITHER _PLEASE_ _STOP PRETENDING_ TO BE OR QUIT BLOODY _FOLLOWING_ ME _AROUND_!"

"But we _are_-"

"_NO_, REGULUS, YOU'RE _NOT_! KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF ALREADY!"

"But-"

"LOOK! I'M _DEAD_ TIRED AND INCREDIBLY TICKED OFF, DO _NOT_ PUSH ME _ANY_ FURTHER OR YOU _WILL_ REGRET IT! DO YOU _GET IT_ YET!"

And, with that, Sirius stormed past them, heading back to the Hospital Wing to seek comfort from Remus.

Severus Snape was not having a good day either. Thinking that no one in his or her right mind would spend a Sunday in the Slytherin Common Room, he'd grabbed breakfast early and set himself up to write another stunning essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Simple enough topic, and one he could easily expand on. Shortly after finishing, he embarked upon writing up some similarly easy homework for Potions…only to be rudely interrupted by a spirited debate between Bellatrix Black and Lucius Malfoy about What To Do About The Kids. He merely rolled his eyes and tried to ignore it; Brother Black the Younger was clearly just doing it for this sort of attention, and Lockhart…well, Lockhart was just an idiot, really. When they tried to drag _him_ into it, however…that was rather difficult to ignore. For the first time since meeting her in his first year, he actually felt gratitude towards Bellatrix's older sister, Narcissa, for telling them to leave him alone, but Malfoy and the youngest Black sister were not to be distracted from their purpose.

"But, _Cissy_…" Bellatrix whined. "They hang around him like the _flies_!"

"Bella, he's trying to _work_; he doesn't need to participate in yours and Lucius's little argument."

"But, _darling_," Lucius sighed warmly. "He's _obviously_ the best person to _comment_ on this fiasco…"

"_Excuse me_!" Severus yelped.

"Oh, come _on_, Snape, _everyone_ knows."

"…I'm not gay."

"…_Oh_. Care to jump in anyway?"

"…_No_."

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes_, Malfoy, I'm _sure_."

"I don't buy it," Bellatrix scoffed.

"I'm _really_ not gay," he reaffirmed. "And, frankly, I don't know why _you_ care, about me or Lockhart and your cousin."

Malfoy blinked, apparently befuddled. "Spindly little bugger's got a good point, Bella…why do we care?"

"_Thank you_," Narcissa hissed.

"Because it's disgusting and we're counting on Regulus to make heirs, since Sirius won't, Meda got disowned, and Cissy and I don't count?"

"Oh, right…"

Clearly, this was neither interesting, nor his business, so Snape packed up his homework supplies and moved to relocate to the library. En route, he had to duck into one of the tapestry-concealed passageways to avoid Potter, Pettigrew, and their enchanted water balloons; unfortunately, one managed to follow him. It only drenched his hair, but it was still irritating. Hoping to clear his head, he went through the passageway and found himself, while slightly relieved of his rage, still wet and a floor above where he wanted to be. Things didn't get better when, on the proper level, he was nearly toppled over by Sirius Black. Black was promptly distracted by his brother and Lockhart, and, though he didn't _handle_ it well, their and their fan club's confusion as he stormed off was incredibly amusing. While Black the Younger and Lockhart looked simply stunned, all the girls looked outraged, scandalized, and otherwise offended.

"What's _his_ problem!" one ditzy Hufflepuff huffed as Snape cast a Drying Charm on his hair.

"…Why isn't it _working_?" Lockhart hissed to Black the Younger.

"…I don't know," Black the Younger sighed. "Maybe we should…_hey_! _Snape_!"

Snape looked up from his self-made distraction. "What? …Oh, _no_."

"But…_Snape_, _c'mon_…"

"_No_," he snapped and shoved his way past the gaggle of third-year stupidity.

Hopefully, the library would bring his much-needed respite from this insanity.


End file.
